


some kind of abstinence

by seatoriver



Series: where do winter crows go? [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Dissociation, Emetophobia, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Violence, Persona 5: The Royal, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, akechi's not in the best mental state, also this more of a character study so i didn't want to put shuake tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seatoriver/pseuds/seatoriver
Summary: See, there was no way Akechi would just eagerly accept such a thing as happiness handed to him on a silver platter. It was humiliating to think that Maruki had believed that he didn't even have the ability to grasp his own goals and fulfill them himself. He knew nothing of what he had to go through, his past ordeals, his forthcomings and the blood on his hands... He had worked himself to the bone to get to the very top and if he was able to do that, he was more than capable of working towards his true happiness. Although, he doesn't think it'll ever be possible as he is now.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Cognitive Akechi Goro, Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: where do winter crows go? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873036
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	some kind of abstinence

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to my other work: [elegy for the boy in black](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974737). It's best advised to read that first as this one expands on that story, although this one is focused more on Akechi's perspective.

In a perfect world, Goro Akechi would be free. No more taking someone's orders, no more appealing to the mass media, no more betrayals… No, he wanted his world to be quiet. Peaceful, at least. 

That was all he really wanted.

So why is it that ironically, Maruki's supposed ideal reality was one where Akechi did not have just that? From the moment he first woke up in this world, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't remember anything from before his awakening, nothing but a general feeling of haze. When he turned on the news, it had nothing but good tidings and happy smiles from the NHK to the Nippon News Network. He rushed out of his apartment, hastily putting on his winter clothes and ran headfirst into this strange Tokyo. It was the same city he had always lived in but suddenly, it had felt so unfamiliar. Everywhere he went, people were smiling, hearing nothing but good news from good news to good news. Frankly, it was nauseating.

Has everyone gone mad? The world had never been this positive before, far from it, really. After all, he saw this city for what it truly was: mindless citizens who were so willing to submit to anyone's control that they would gladly ignore the truth and blindly latch on to the next hottest gossip, regardless of the discrepancy. 

_The Phantom Thieves were just!_

_The Phantom Thieves were murderers!_

_Shido will save us all!_

Akechi could laugh at how pathetic it all was.

So, when he was suddenly thrust into this world as it is, he knew exactly who to go to for help. It would be humiliating at best but he didn't have the time to worry about things like that. And if anything, he knows he would be the last person to refuse his help.

Still, it didn't come off as a surprise to him when he saw the Phantom Thieves submit to Maruki's reality so easily. After all, their wishes had all come true and things that had once seemed impossible could suddenly become very possible. People once lost were now alive and well and impossible circumstances were now overturned to fit the person best. He knew that this was all they ever wanted, to have their life go as smoothly as this but if anything, it was grating. They were the _Phantom Thieves_ , the very people that had caused a hard roadblock to his revenge all because of their obligation to uphold a naive sense of justice. They had changed all those hearts and one-upped Akechi, just to suddenly turn around and forget about it all, opting to bask in this reality? He could slap each one of them in the faces if only to show how irritated he was at them.

But he couldn't imagine how difficult it was for Akira to even witness such a thing. The leader of the Phantom Thieves watching all of his friends scatter off to take their false happiness as they please as if he had never been an integral part of their lives. Like he never mattered that much to them in the first place. It was pathetic and knowing full well how willing he was to please people, if Akechi hadn't come, he didn't even want to think about what could have happened then.

See, there was no way Akechi would just eagerly accept such a thing as happiness handed to him on a silver platter. It was humiliating to think that Maruki had believed that he didn't even have the ability to grasp his own goals and fulfill them himself. He knew nothing of what he had to go through, his past ordeals, his forthcomings and the blood on his hands... He had worked himself to the bone to get to the very top and if he was able to do that, he was more than capable of working towards his true happiness. Although, he doesn't think it'll ever be possible as he is now. 

After all, he's probably not even…

  
  


…

  
  


"Akechi… You―you are still alive, right? You're really here? I mean, you're _here._ I can feel you. I can touch you."

 _Oh, Akira. You beautiful, pathetic fool._ He thought to himself. _So naive to cling to me. To be so hopeful. But I'm afraid I don't have any more hope left to give you._

He could feel a strong burning sensation stinging his eyes but he willed himself to hold back. To compose himself. He would bite his tongue if he had to. The big lump in his throat was beginning to hurt him but he forced himself to swallow it down. Akechi had come too far to falter and lose his way. He was going to see this through to the end, and he wasn't just about to let Akira take the easy way out and ignore the truth about him.

Akira had his hand cupping Akechi's cheek and the detective shivered slightly at the touch. It was warm and he found himself unconsciously leaning into him carefully. 

This was dangerous. Akira was _dangerous_. Not in the way that he was a threat to his life but in the way that he was a threat to his heart. For a brief moment, Akechi indulges himself and imagines a life together with Akira in this world. Idyllic and "free". He could finally go to school and not worry about work, visit Leblanc anytime he wanted, duel with Akira as many times as he could… It was so very tempting. 

But the gratification would kill him. If not, then the guilt would. Then, the frustration. The anger. He didn't really know if he still had any left after Shido's palace but he figured years of resentment wasn't just going to dispel once he was gone. He had to live with that for the rest of his life and for what it's worth, he had accepted that. Maruki couldn't just take that away from him. He just couldn't. That was his wrath he had to coddle for much of his entire life. That was _him_. He couldn't just erase a part of himself. Otherwise, who was he anymore? What was he left with, without the fire?

"What are you doing?"

A small voice piped up from behind Akira. Akechi looked up to see a younger version of himself, staring back at him. He felt himself stiffen up at the sight of the young boy.

"Why are you hugging him? Do you love him?"

"I..." the words get caught in his throat.

"I just wanted someone to love me. Don't you?"

He can't reply. The words are trapped in his mouth.

"I don't want to die, Big brother. Why are you doing this to us? To him?"

The words just won't come out.

"It's because he's a coward," someone else says, standing beside the younger Akechi. It was him in his school uniform, an exact spitting image of him but he had a wide smile on his face, just like the ones he would do for his tv shows. It was eerie, so much so that he never truly realized just how artificial the smile looked. It looked completely devoid of any joy, just a poor imitation of what could've been genuine happiness. "He doesn't want to stay because he's afraid of Akira―of being happy. It's pathetic."

The younger Akechi starts crying. "Why can't he be happy?"

"Because he's a disgusting sinner who couldn't even manage to kill one simple man. And now, he's going to die. We're all going to die."

"No! No! Mom! Mommy!" the boy starts shrieking, his voice gradually growing louder and more desperate, piercing his ears. "H-Help me! I don't wanna disappear! Please don't kill me! Don't kill me, Big brother…!"

Akechi looks away and grits his teeth, his breath heaving. _Calm down, this isn't real. They're not real._

The other Akechi laughs. "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

The boy continues screeching desperately, pleading for his life. Akechi tries to ignore it, suppresses them out of his mind but he can still hear his screams. The other one is still laughing at him without a care in the world. They just won't leave him alone.

"Poor Akira. The one person he cares about the most―which was a horrible mistake, if you ask me―doomed to die a miserable death. He's clinging to you; he thinks you're still here. But that's not the truth, is it?"

Akechi reluctantly shakes his head, in solemn resignation.

"Well then, you know what to do."

And all of a sudden, his mind was calm. The two were gone for the time being but who knows when they would appear to torment him again. Somewhere in his head, he knew he was still hesitating, still wishing he could even _stay_ with him a bit longer, even if just for a bit. But he can't bear to see Akira like this, looking so wide-eyed and desperate for something that was all too impossible to have.

Akechi doesn't remember opening his mouth and having the words spill out, laid bare for Akira to see. To have it forced into his face, unable to look away. Like a car accident you couldn't tear your eyes away from. He doesn't quite remember what was said after that, what Akira was telling him. Everything sounded so jumbled, so hazy; it felt like he was underwater. The last thing Akechi could recall was an apology from Akira, the tight hug that came after it and how long it had been since he was last held like this. An image of his mother flashed into his mind. He had hugged her once, almost like this, but that was different, more comforting than desperate. 

Nothing like this. 

It was so long ago now, he could barely even remember why it even happened.

Akechi allowed himself to burrow his face into Akira's neck and breath him in, making sure to take in as much of his smell as he can before he finally lets him go. 

And he told himself that it would be enough.

  
  


...

  
  


Akechi wakes up very early that morning, at five o'clock sharp.

It's always been a habit of his. He had a very long morning routine to adhere to and it took a lot of willpower to get himself ready to face another day. Whether it be another tv shoot or working for the police, his mask had to be at the most optimal condition, eager to please but always three steps ahead. 

Always planning. 

Always acting.

He didn't allow himself any time to take a breather, not even when he got home at the end of the day. His gloves were a reminder of that. Ever since the day he would first don them, there would be no rest for him until the deed was done. After all, there was always more work to do, someone to call, a request to fulfill…

So, if anything, yesterday was probably the most he's ever allowed himself to relax and let down his guard. It was always like that around Akira, especially at Leblanc. Everytime he stepped foot in here, he would instantly feel all of his stress melt off of him and for a brief moment, he would enjoy the repose of his time there. Maybe even too much. There were times where he'd loosen up and say more than he had intended but it didn't seem like anyone here minded. Strangely enough, Akira even seemed to accept it. It was absurd to think that he wouldn't reject such a part of him or be so against his presence. Akechi was just another person here. He wasn't the Detective Prince or Shido's bastard son, he was allowed to just be himself. 

He could finally breathe.

For a brief second, he almost didn't want to get up. Doing so meant he had to leave this place, leave Akira. He sighed and moved a hand over his face. He wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what this place meant to him. Akechi couldn't recall the amount of times he'd come over just to see that raven-haired boy for no real reason. He knows exactly why this place felt so warm, just like the coffee that Akira specially makes for him. He knows but it's all hopeless anyway. Nothing can be done about these feelings anymore. 

There's still something he has to do.

With great effort, Akechi sits up, yawns and looks around the attic. It was still dark out. From outside the window, he could see tiny specks of snowflakes falling silently. Despite the small heater put on the highest setting, it was so cold in the room that Akechi was able to see a little bit of his breath when he breathed out. He shivers and huddles the blanket around him for warmth, holding it like a cape.

Akechi's gaze eventually falls on Akira, who was facing his way, fast asleep. He walked over to him, with the blanket still draped around himself, careful to not let the floorboards creak too much. The boy had his glasses off and it was one of the rare times Akechi was able to see Akira's face so closely. He took the chance to study his features more carefully, burning the sight of him into his head. He was so pretty with the moonlight reflected on him through the window. Slowly, Akechi brushed some of Akira's bangs off of his face and then slowly traced his fingers over the bandage on his cheek, the one where he had carefully placed on him.

Part of him wished the boy had slapped him back, if only to satisfy Akechi's guilt but somehow he had held back. 

Right. Akira was too nice for that. He probably felt that he couldn't hurt him because Akechi was hurting the most, or some other bullshit like that. How stupidly foolish.

"So naive…" Akechi whispered, gently stroking the boy's head. "I don't get it. Just why are you trying so hard?"

Akira stirs a bit which causes Akechi to stiffen, holding his breath. After a bit of shifting, he relaxes and so too, does Akechi.

"Akechi…" Akira says, startling him. He thinks he's awake but finds that the boy still has his eyes closed. Must be sleeptalk. "Please stay…"

His soft voice, the lingering half-spoken remnants of a wish, all of it just tugged at something inside Akechi. He was so defenseless, so vulnerable. The sight of him curled up and resting peacefully was so disgustingly endearing that it almost made him change his mind, if it meant having to see him like this all the time.

Akechi kneeled beside Akira on the bed, taking one of his hands into his. The boy squeezed unconsciously at the touch, sighing a bit. He squeezed a bit back but not quite enough to wake him.

"I'm sorry, Akira," he tells him. "I can't. But if you can, please don't forget about me. Think about me from time to time. No matter how painful. Please think of me..."

It was selfish of him, he knows, but being forgotten was just too painful. He didn't mind if at least one person truly knew about him and kept him in his heart. That was enough.

He leaned down on Akira's forehead, before thinking better of it and sitting back upright. Akechi tousled Akira's hair carefully, lingering for a bit before finally letting go, putting the boy's hand back on top of his chest, carefully tucking the blanket over him.

After one last long look at Akira, Akechi steels himself and looks away. He changes out of his borrowed pajamas, folds them neatly on top of the made couch and heads downstairs. He grabs the coat he left on his chair, puts it on, relishing the warmth it gave him. He took one last glance at the empty Leblanc, placing his hand on the old countertop.

"Thank you for everything," Akechi says under his breath. And he means it.

With one final goodbye, he leaves Leblanc on a somber note. He'll be back later to regroup with the Phantom Thieves but this will be the last time he'd ever have the cafe and Akira to himself. The last time to see them in their most tranquil state, peaceful and undisturbed. Part of him wishes he could have stayed to be a part of that world for just a bit longer. But he knew deep down, it was much too late for that.

"Big brother, why are we leaving?" his younger self comes out of nowhere, appearing to his side. "I like this place. It's warm."

He sighs. "We can't stay. We're dead, remember? We're not even supposed to be here."

Akechi braced himself for another meltdown from the boy but instead, there was silence. He glanced down to find his younger self looking resigned, his shoulders slumped and eyebrows furrowed. It seemed he had accepted the harsh truth but had a hard time figuring out what it meant. He didn't blame him―or himself for that matter―he didn't really know what came after all this either.

"Oh, okay," the boy sighed deeply, his head hung down.

Seeing himself look so down made him feel guilty. Even if it was his younger self, he was never quite good at dealing with kids. The children at the orphanage would frequently bully him, eager to play into some make-believe hierarchy. They would isolate him, tease him and make him feel even more unwanted than he already was. Really, children were one of his worst nightmares.

But he had to remember that he was a child once, too, and he wasn't just about to turn away from someone so vulnerable. He wouldn't treat them as something lesser than him or as a doll of some sort. He would treat them with the sort of love he would have wanted to have as a child, just like his mother's love, if not more.

Akechi noticed the boy shivering. He had his hands to his mouth, warming them up with his hot breath. 

He took off his only glove left and gave it to the boy. "Here."

"Are you sure, Big brother?" he looked up at him. "I don't want your hands to be cold either."

Akechi laughed a little. "I'm fine. On the other hand, you're shivering like a motor there."

"It's really cold," he gladly put on the glove and then realized there was only one. "Where's the other one?"

"Ah, well. I had a duel with someone and it's a custom in the West to throw a glove at them," Akechi instinctively smiled at the memory. "So they have the other one."

"Oh, that's so cool! You have a rival then?" he piped up, his big eyes twinkling in wonder. "You're just like Featherman!"

"Yes, just like Featherman," he chuckled.

Akechi held out his hand towards the boy, shoving his other hand deep into his coat pocket. The boy happily took it in his. The two started walking down the street towards the station. Snow had started to pile up and it was now coating the entire city in a crystal white. The young Akechi swung their hands a bit when they walked, purposely making his footsteps big to see his footprint in the snow.

"I love Featherman! One day, I want to be a hero, just like him!" he exclaims. "I've watched all of their shows so I know everything. Did you watch them?"

"Yes, I have. Up to season 11. I believe they're at season 12 now though."

"What?! Season 12? I watched everything so I know there's only 4 seasons so far!" the boy looks at Akechi enviously. "I wish I could grow up already like you so I can watch all the Featherman series and have a rival, too."

Akechi laughs again, albeit a bit sadly. "Trust me, you don't want to grow up yet. You have all the time in the world. Enjoy being a kid for a bit longer. You'll miss it when you're old like me."

"Really?" the boy grows quiet, contemplating a bit. After some time, he nods his head. "Yeah, you're right. I take it back. I think Mommy would be sad if I had to grow old already."

"Yeah, she would."

"I miss Mommy. I wish she didn't have to go to heaven. I wanted her to watch all the seasons with me. It was so fun."

"I miss her, too, kiddo."

Noticing that the other boy had gone quiet, he squeezed his hand a bit. He looked up at Akechi and squeezed back.

"Big brother, are we going to where Mommy is soon?"

He sucked in a breath, a bit taken aback by the question. He sure was an insightful kid back then, not afraid to throw hard ball questions at people. Akechi didn't remember ever being like that but then again, childhood was so long ago. Stuff like dreams of being a hero and spending time with his mother was long past him now, it almost felt like it had belonged to someone else.

"Yes," he finally said. "We'll get to see her soon. I'm sure she missed you a lot."

The boy beamed at that, skipping in his steps. "Okay! I still don't really want to die but I want to see her again. She must've been lonely without us."

They both fell silent, trudging along on the fresh snow. The city was quiet that night, the only sound that could be heard were their heavy footsteps and the soft buzzing of the telephone wires. Akechi notices how the boy's footprints seem to be disappearing as he walks, as if he was never really here to begin with. He was a hallucination, after all. There wasn't actually another hand in his. But still, it was warm, and Akechi took comfort in that.

"Hey, Big brother," the boy starts, tugging on his hand a bit.

"What is it?"

"Your rival, it's the guy from earlier right? At the cafe? You guys were hugging. I didn't know rivals can hug. In Featherman, they're always fighting each other."

Akechi chuckled, shaking his head. He didn't know how he was going to explain his complex relationship with a certain wild card in a way that his younger self would understand, when he himself didn't quite understand it either. "You're right, rivals fight. But it's not all that, I suppose. Sometimes, you can be on friendly terms with them and even take them to places you both like. You can even just have friendly competitions without worrying about beating the other."

"That kind of sounds like a friend, then, right? A rival friend?"

He nods a little, smiling down at the boy. "I suppose so. Rival friends."

"That's so cool. It's like you can fight someone as much as you want but they won't get mad at you because you're friends. And then you can just play together after whenever you want," the boy looks ahead, a faraway look in his eyes. "You're so lucky, Big brother. I don't have anyone like that."

He knows exactly what his younger self really meant. _I don't have anyone at all._ For much of his life, Akechi had nobody to rely on but himself. Time and time again, people had already proven to be fake, manipulative or straight up cruel. Of course he had to force himself to grow up. He had no choice. Otherwise, without his efforts, he wouldn't even be standing here today. If he never played his cards right, he'd be dead a long time ago.

He looked down at the boy. He must've been about ten years old now, not too long since their mother committed suicide. What came after that was Akechi's long descent into a path of hardship, forced to endure his days at the orphanage. Then he was being passed around from foster home to foster home like an unlucky item until eventually falling right at Shido's feet. It truly was a series of unfortunate events that could have been easily avoided if at least one person would have reached their hand out for him. But not a single one did.

 _Well, that's not true anymore,_ Akechi thought. _Akira did, many times, actually. I wish I had turned back when I did. Then…_

He didn't allow himself to finish that thought and shook his head. There's no use mulling over these things. What's done is done. He couldn't even be granted the chance to live with his consequences because he's dead. At least, he's sure he has to be.

Why was he seeing a hallucination of himself now anyway? It couldn't have been Maruki's work, could it? Now that he thought about it, maybe it was possible. The counsellor had already proven to have the ability to bring the dead back to life, if only as a farfetched illusion. Perhaps, he had summoned this boy from the deepest depths of his psyche as a last ditch effort to convince him to accept this world. 

Thinking about how Maruki could easily watch his past memories from wherever he was angered him. It felt like a violation of his privacy. The only one who ever really knew what he was like was Akira. Although he had given him bits and pieces of his past circumstances to piece together (which was already more than he should have), that was of his volition. It was coming from a place of genuine vulnerability, where he truly felt he could confide in Akira without any judgement whatsoever. Maruki wasn't allowed to just take a peek at him whenever he pleased and send some ghost of himself to haunt him. He's already had his fair share of that…

He snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that the boy was shivering more than normal. Akechi took off his red scarf and kneeled down to wrap it around the boy's neck. He snuggled into it gratefully, sighing in relief.

"Sorry, Big brother. I keep taking your stuff…" he said, sheepishly. "You must be really cold now."

Akechi laughed, patting the boy. "Don't be ridiculous. This weather is nothing."

Maybe he really has gone mad, going so far as to wrap his only scarf around a nonexistent illusion of himself. Regardless if he was an illusion or not, Akechi would have felt guilty either way letting the boy shiver to death, even if he already was dead.

He stood up slowly, dusting off the snow on his pants. The boy held out his hand and Akechi took it in his, shoving their hands into his coat pocket. It felt so natural, having his hands in someone else's. It was warm and comforting and he wonders why he's never done it more often.

Well, he supposed it was because the last time he'd ever held hands with someone was with his mom. After all these years, he still fell into the natural rhythm of taking someone's hands in his. With his mom, he never felt the need to question it, their hands eventually found their ways towards each other. 

Maybe Akechi has always been like that, reaching for something. As a child, it was reaching for his mother. 

Futile. 

Then, he thought he was reaching for his father. 

Pathetic. 

Now, after everything he's been through, he was not so sure anymore. The only thing he was certain of was how warm the boy's hand in his felt. 

"By the way, about earlier, that's not true at all. About never having anyone," Akechi started. "There's Akira, the one you saw earlier at Leblanc. I―well, we―met him and he's changed my life for the better. He's given me everything I've ever wanted, whether as a rival or as a friend. And I'm grateful for that."

"He sounds really nice," his younger self said fondly. "I'm happy you have him. I'm kind of jealous though; I wish he was my friend, too."

A small pang of pain shot up in his heart. The fragile loneliness of his younger self's words rang in his mind. Amidst all the years of planning he did, underneath all the lies he made, there was only this self he had to go back to. Here he was, walking beside himself, so helpless, so frail. Every single word that came out of his mouth sounded like a small cry for help. Although, isn't that exactly what he's been doing all this time? Dropping subtle hints about his circumstances and Shido's manipulation in the hopes that someone, anyone, could see through it and reach out to help. Even after all those years, that was the one part of himself that really stuck with him. How depressing, really.

"That's what I'm saying: he's our friend, you know. You're me, remember?" Akechi reminded him.

The boy looked at him strangely before he brightened up, laughing a little. "Oh! Right! Sorry, it's still kind of weird to think about."

"Don't worry. This is throwing me off, too."

His younger self sneezes, which prompts a _Bless you_ from Akechi. The boy thanks him, shivering a little.

"Big brother?"

"Hm?"

"Can you tell me what your friend is like?"

Oh dear. Where would he even start? 

"Well, Akira is…" The words aren't coming to him. He feels like his heart's being squeezed into a blender. Akechi tries again. "He's..."

The boy squeezes his hand in comfort, calming him down. He didn't even realize that he had somehow started shaking slightly, and he knew it wasn't because of the cold.

Akechi took a deep breath. "Akira is the strangest person I've ever met in my whole life."

That prompted a small giggle from the boy but otherwise, he listened intently. Akechi smiled fondly, sighing a bit. "I'm serious. I've never met anyone so interesting, so stubborn and fun to be around. If I'd never done the things I did, I think I would spend my days with him mostly. Every time I did hang out with Akira, I'd always find myself laughing too much, saying too much, just _being_ too much. But somehow, it never felt enough. I wanted more of him. I wanted to stay with him a little longer."

He paused a bit when they reached the crossing towards the station, waiting for the light to turn red. There wasn't a single car in sight, or anyone around for that matter. He supposed this, too, was part of the effect of Maruki's influence… Or not. It was just an ungodly hour that most people wouldn't be awake at. Except, of course, for him. If it were Akechi, he'd be out cycling throughout the city, savouring the stillness of it all. But perhaps not in this weather, he'd have to wait until the snow all cleared up.

 _Oh, I never did get a chance to fix my flat tire,_ he thought, frowning a bit. _Well, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. What a shame. It would've been nice to go cycling with Akira. I wonder if he even knows how to ride a bike._

"Big brother?" the small boy piped up, bringing Akechi out of his thoughts.

"My apologies. I tend to get lost in my thoughts quite often."

He giggled. "I do that, too! You really are me!"

They both shared a laugh, heartfelt and free. Once they both died down, Akechi sighed, his gaze looking far-off in the distance. "You know, Akira was just so strange. He made me feel so many things, most of which I still can't quite put a label on just yet. I thought I hated him but I knew, deep down, that it was far from the truth. Looking back on it now, perhaps it was a defense mechanism of sorts."

When the boy looked up at him, he cocked his head to the side in confusion. "You hated him, even though you liked him?"

Akechi laughed softly, gently pulling the boy along with him across the street once he saw the light turn white. "He was an enigma like that, always spinning my thoughts into chaos. I would resolve myself to one thing and the next he'd have me doubting all my past actions. Really, what a troublesome guy..."

It was the little boy's turn to laugh. "That sounds complicated but it also sounds like a lot of fun. I'm glad you met him, Big brother. I just wish I could have met him earlier."

 _Funny. That's what I said, too._ Akechi thought. At the time, he could still remember the look on Akira's face during his inevitable breakdown in the engine room. He could only describe it as one of pure devastation. It was coloured with conflict, one that suggested he already knew what Akechi was going to say but it pained him anyway. He didn't realize it then but during that battle, he could recall his slight look of hesitation as Akira swung for him and the subtle delay of his body moving. Everytime Akechi would wince in pain, he could see Akira instinctively flinch, as if he was hit by it, too. The look of genuine concern on his face was burned into Akechi's mind, never leaving him.

Even now, it was all he could think of.

"Big brother?" The young boy pulls him out of his thoughts once more.

Akechi only shakes his head. "No, I was just thinking the same, too. I think he would have been good friends with you as a kid."

"Really? That's awesome! If I had met him earlier, I would have shown him my entire Featherman dvd collection! And then we'd play the video game series together! And then we'd―"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, kiddo. You're talking too fast."

"Sorry! I guess I got kind of excited thinking of what I'd do if we ever hung out together," he went quiet for a bit before speaking up. "Come to think of it, what kind of stuff did you guys do together?"

"Hm, well. It wasn't anything terribly interesting. We just talked a lot, played chess sometimes and went to places together. It's nothing like your idea of playtime, I'm afraid." Akechi said that but in truth, those were the most interesting times he's had his whole life. But he was far too stubborn to admit such a thing.

"Well obviously it's different, Big brother. You're way older than me," he giggled, "but you know, just because your idea of hanging out is different from mine, it doesn't make it any less special. I mean, you actually treasured those times, right? Please tell me about them all. I want to hear it."

Akechi stopped in his tracks. Here was the thing that he was desperately trying to downplay, the one thing he was trying so hard to deny, being told to him straight up from his ten year old psyche in the flesh. Looks like nothing could get past himself, huh?

Back then, he promised himself he wouldn't get attached, no matter what happened. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he didn't even know it was possible to still feel attachment in the first place, one of the pure kind anyway. Sure, there was his attachment to Shido, as much as he'd hate to call it that. What did it matter what he called it anyway when it was all just hatred in the end? 

But it wasn't like that with Akira. He was different. Akechi had first told himself he only wanted to be involved with him because he was simply curious. Then, it was because he found him interesting. Shortly after, he had his suspicions. And from then on, he decided that Akira was purely just a means to an end. But in the end, they were all only excuses he would repeat to himself. Somewhere along the way, he found their time enjoyable. He didn't know when exactly he would start putting his guard down around Akira or loosening himself up. Akechi found himself looking forward to their outings, inviting him out whenever he had the chance to and speaking more than he should have. He hated himself for indulging with someone he wasn't supposed to, for even thinking of getting sidetracked with his real goal but Akechi just couldn't help himself when it came to Akira, could he?

No, he really couldn’t. The moment he first laid eyes on him, he would be entranced, bewitched under a spell that doomed him to yearn for the boy for as long as he lived. _Curse him, that beautiful enigma,_ he would think to himself. _Curse him for making me feel this way, reduced to a pile of uselessness and ugly yearning._ He might call it ugly but in truth, it was sweet. Much too sweet. Akira was as sweet as a sugary plate of a frosted stack of pancakes, that it was sickening. But he would always come back for more, no matter the size or how disgustingly sweet it was. He just couldn’t get enough of him. He’d eat it all if it meant he could finally satisfy the hunger that he didn’t know he had for the boy.

Akechi doesn’t even like pancakes, but he didn’t particularly dislike it either. Despite it being what initially gave his cover away, and essentially causing his newfound aversion for the damn thing, he couldn’t forget all the other times he had used it as a way to get Akira to spend time with him. Not once had he ever used any other dish as a topic for someone he was genuinely interested in. It was only for him.

That’s when he knew how hopeless it all was. 

He rubs his eyes, thinks the tears will finally come to him this time but he blinks and nothing falls. A heavy weight settles in his chest instead.

"Big brother, please tell me," the young boy said again, looking at Akechi hopefully.

"Alright, alright, I give," Akechi sighed, shaking his head. "But don't say I didn't warn you. It's long and boring and I'm sure you'll zone out in thirty seconds."

"I won't! I'm a good listener, I promise!"

He smiles and begins telling him about his time spent with Akira, starting from when they had first met. Akechi tells him of their initial hangouts, that time at the cafe with the makeshift disguise, at the bathhouse opening up, his favourite jazz club… As soon as the words left his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself. He made sure to describe every detail he could remember, not just for the boy, but for himself, as well. He supposed it was a reminder of the few good memories he had in his life. The boy listened intently throughout, occasionally giving him a few hums of approval or giggles but otherwise, he didn’t interrupt him. This continued on during their train ride to his apartment. 

Akechi didn’t even know he had that much to say about Akira. He found that he didn’t even have to think too hard about it, that it was all too natural for him to find the words to recall the events. 

Akira Kurusu. Even his name felt right in his mouth, like he was meant to say it over and over again. He didn’t tire of the way it rolled off his tongue or the way he could immediately envision the boy in his head.

Sometime later, the young boy had fallen asleep with his head laid on Akechi’s lap. He never realized when he had exactly dozed off but still he continued in a soft voice, gently stroking the boy’s hair. A brief image of his mom reading him a bedtime story flashed into his mind, his head on her lap as it was right now.

…

  
  


By the time they had reached the apartment, Akechi had to carry his younger self into his futon. For an illusion, he was still decently heavy. If it weren’t for his hobby for bouldering, cycling and training at palaces, his arms would easily give way. After pulling the covers over him, he felt something bump against his feet and was promptly greeted by his roomba, Baba. 

It was the horrendously expensive gift that Akira had kindly given him one day on one of their outings. It came as a surprise to him. After all it was quite out of the blue, and there wasn’t really any occasion for him to receive a present but it made him happy nonetheless. At the time, he joked about how he had been thinking of getting a pet but found that he never really had the time to take care of one so that a roomba was perfect. Akira then asked him what he would name it and off the top of his head, Baba was what he said. To his surprise, Akira burst out laughing, a lot. Come to think of it, it was probably the first time he had ever seen the boy laugh so heartily and upon the sight of him, he felt a sense of satisfaction.

“Hey, Baba. Thanks again for taking care of the place for me,” he kneeled down, casually patting the roomba on the top of what could essentially be called it’s head. “Sorry I’ve been in and out a lot. Although, this is probably the last time I’ll ever set foot in here, huh?”

The roomba whirred in what Akechi likes to think was its response and promptly shuffled under the bed, off to clean every single nook and cranny just as it was programmed to do. He sighed and got up, dusting off his pants. He made a mental note to power down Baba before he left for Akira’s place later. Despite being a robot, he didn’t really want to leave it all alone, left to clean an empty apartment for the rest of it’s remaining battery life. Even for an inanimate object, it just felt too cruel.

When he looked back at the bed, the illusion of his younger self was no longer there. He looked around, thinking that he must've gotten up without him noticing but it was only just himself here. Perhaps Maruki had finally sent him away when he noticed that Akechi had somehow tamed the boy. Wordlessly, he took back the single glove and red scarf laying on the bed.

For the most part, Akechi’s apartment was fairly spick and span, one would think uncannily so, even. It hardly felt like home for him though, just a place to have a chance to take off his mask and rest for a short while. Most of the time, he would pile up his work on the small desk he had in his room although he would later find himself doing that at Leblanc instead. Overall, the place just felt hollow to him. It wasn’t personalized in any way, the walls were bare, left with a dull colour of white. He had the essentials but other than a regular futon, a couch, a desk, tv, fridge and stove, there wasn’t much of anything else. 

It’s not like he really needed anything more though. Everything here was provided by Shido, as a way to keep tabs on him and for him to assert the fact that Akechi would be helpless without him. Despite the man not even being present in the suite, for most of his time spent here, he felt incredibly trapped. Some days, it was almost hard to breath. It was as if Shido was always watching him at all times, never leaving him. Even when he thought he was safe, he knew he couldn’t fully let his guard down for fear of a hidden camera or microphone in his room. Even now, as he knows the fully changed heart of Shido is locked behind bars, those feelings of claustrophobia still remained.

When Akechi did have any sort of keepsake, he left it in a small box hidden under a broken floorboard. Most of which contained Akira’s presents for him, his modest Featherman DVD collection and the only photo he had left of his mother. He didn’t need anything else.

He walked to the kitchen, where the majority of the place was left collecting dust as his cooking ability was pretty much nonexistent. The only thing he used frequently was his microwave, kettle, and refrigerator, which upon checking was almost empty, save for a single bento takeout. His stomach gurgled at the sight of it.

Akechi sighed and took it out of the fridge, placing it into the microwave and setting it to three minutes before turning it on. Baba came out of his bedroom and slowly zoomed past Akechi, bumping into the fridge momentarily before moving somewhere else. He stepped over the roomba and walked into his small bathroom, turning the lights on. 

He doesn’t really know why he came in there but the next thing he knew, he was in the shower with his clothes still on, the hot water nozzle turned on. Akechi doesn’t really feel anything, just that it felt good to be under the heat for once. He pressed his head against the cool bathroom tile, sighing at the coldness of it. His usually busy mind was quiet for once, and he spent the time mostly staring at the floor, watching the water drip off his clothes and go down the drain. The longer he stared at it, the more he thought the water would wash him away, too, but it never did.

He doesn’t remember turning the nozzle off and getting out of the shower. His clothes were dripping on the floor, a small pool of water formed at his feet. Akechi looked in the mirror and for the first time in years, he saw himself for who he really was: tired and worn. Ever since he had awoken to Maruki’s reality, he had stopped caring about keeping up his appearances as there was no longer any reason to make any effort, not for television or even himself. Before he knew it, he was looking at himself barefaced, with bags under his eyes and what seemed like a small pimple beginning to form on his forehead. Just lovely.

Who’s going to take him as he is now?

“Hah, Charismatic Detective, my ass,” he mumbled to himself. “Ridiculous.”

His eyes glanced over to his hand and he realized that the bandaid Akira had put on him yesterday had come off due to the water. The bruising from yesterday had disappeared that Akechi almost questioned whether yesterday was real or not. 

He shook his head. _Of course it was real. It had to have been._

If that was the case, then what the hell was this? He saw what his hand was like yesterday, had felt the pain of punching it against the ground in frustration, the lingering sensation of Akira’s hands on his… They were all real. So, why was it that his hand was now fully healed and unblemished?

Then, a face popped into his mind and he scoffed in anger. “Shit, that asshole. What a real piece of work.”

Akechi moved a hand through his wet hair in frustration, sighing. Of course, Maruki had to intervene. Who else was able to heal people on a grand scale like this? What was it he said again, about wanting to make people happy or some useless shit like that? It wasn’t entirely unthinkable given that he has already proven to be more than capable of bringing back the dead or completely altering one’s appearance. 

What’s a few minor scrapes to a false god, after all?

Even so, a part of him was irrationally angry. It was as if a part of him was dismissed just by the fact that the injuries weren’t there. As if Maruki was telling him to move on from what happened, or to even forget about it. Frankly, it was humiliating. He didn’t need someone to baby him, making sure that he was completely okay all the time. Not after everything he went through. 

And how dare he have the audacity to take that away from him, to invalidate his anger? No matter how anyone looked at it, that fight with Akira yesterday was his, and his alone to remember and those injuries were his to bear. He didn’t care if he was being dramatic or the like, Akechi was sick and tired of people taking advantage of him and dictating every move he made. As indirect as this was, the implications were still very much there. 

_You don’t need this injury. You’d be better off without it._

It wasn’t just erasing his anger, it was erasing the entire memory of it, and what came after. It was a reminder of what would happen to his agency if Maruki had his way with the world. He’d be doomed to submit to his control, altered to whatever sick version of himself that the counsellor thought would suit him best, or would essentially make him happier. Akechi thought he was going to be sick.

A sudden wave of nausea struck him and he had barely managed to open the toilet seat lid before vomiting everything he ate yesterday. There was the last curry Akira would ever make for him, swimming around in the toilet water. At the sight of it, Akechi felt angry again which prompted more nausea and vomiting to ensue. The sound of his food coming out of his throat and the sick stench of bile made the experience even more unbearable. He vomited until nothing came out of his mouth anymore, his stomach left feeling hollow. Once he was done, he slowly flushed the toilet and closed the lid, laying his head down to rest his throbbing head.

Slowly, he made his way to the top of the sink, having to use his arms to prop himself up. He caught a sight of himself in the mirror; somehow, he looked even worse than he did earlier. There were now a few traces of puke all over his mouth and he felt like the bags under his eyes had gotten darker, if that was even possible. 

He turned on the sink faucet, proceeding to splash his face with cold water and rinse off the vomit from his mouth. Akechi washed his face for a good minute or so before turning off the faucet, his head down on the sink. Sighing, he looked up again at the mirror and found himself looking right at the Akechi illusion from before, the one with the eerie smile. He flinched back, knocking off the tube of toothpaste and various other cosmetics on his sink.

“Look at you, how pathetic,” the illusion said, sneering at him. “Spooked by your own reflection.”

“You’re not some reflection, you piece of shit,” Akechi snarled, propping himself back on the sink.

The other Akechi chuckled. “Careful, that’s you you’re talking about.”

“You’re not me.”

“Oh, but I am. This isn’t anyone’s cognition but yours, you know. This is all you. See, take a good look at me.”

The illusion then proceeded to make a wide grin, the background in the mirror shifting to one of the interrogation room, where he shot Akira. He didn’t know what kind of face he made then but he wished he never had the chance to see it now. His face was just so _twisted_ ; his eyes were devoid of any light and his mouth was upturned into a wicked grin. What scared him the most was how much of it screamed of Shido. It looked so much like him. _He_ looked so much like him. All of it just made him want to vomit again.

He forced the bile back down and punched the mirror as hard as he could, the shards flying everywhere. Blood was pouring down his knuckles but he couldn’t feel the pain over his anger. There was no way he was like Shido, no way he was ever going to become even remotely similar to that vile man. Because if he was, he doesn’t think he could bear with himself anymore.

Akechi heard laughter coming from behind him and he whipped around to find himself face to face with the Akechi illusion in the flesh, looking down at him. He threw another punch at him which effectively knocked him down.

“Aw, what’s this? Are you scared of me? Or of yourself?” the other Akechi said over the punches. He continued to talk as if it wasn’t affecting him, despite the injuries beginning to settle on his face. “Haha! Looks like I struck a chord, huh?”

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!” Akechi screamed, throwing blow after blow at the illusion. “You’re not me! There’s no way you’re me! Leave me alone! Get the fuck away from me!”

“Why won’t you just admit it? I’ve always been you. I’m the part you always played when you faced the world. Your very own Sock and Buskin. I am comedy and tragedy itself. I acted the part, making those cheesy jokes, pleasing people everywhere I went. Everyone smiled at me. Everyone liked me. I had them all fooled, didn’t I? I did my best, didn’t I? After all, they were nothing but scum. A worthless audience. But had I stopped playing my role at any given time, who knows when the jeering would start. I did everything they wanted, you know. I was everybody’s favourite detective, the one and only extraordinaire. And as suddenly as I had risen, they turned their backs on me. They mocked me, told me I was a fraud, a good for nothing. I thought, if it was going to be like this, what was it all for?"

"I was always angry, you know. Resentful. I had to nurse that fire for the rest of my childhood and into my adolescence to young adulthood. I had to hide that from everybody. Locked into the deepest depths of my soul. Because nobody wanted an angry child, they wanted someone pleasing. Someone obedient. Someone perfect. I tried really hard, you know? To be perfect. I think I came close to the definition of it once, but I never quite grasped it. I think I tried to be a really good child. But the lights, it blinded me. I think I lost myself somewhere in that audience I was desperately seeking validation from. Perhaps even now, I’m still left behind there somewhere, stuck inside someone’s television, doomed to repeat the same lines of the script over and over. Over and over, I wished that somebody would look at me. Really look at me."

"Tell me this isn’t all real. Tell me that I was real. Tell me everything I did was worth it. Tell me I was worth it. Tell me I was loved. Tell me how it feels to be born as a child out of wedlock, from a father that doesn’t love you and from a mother that couldn’t bear it anymore. Tell me how it feels to be all alone in this world, to be so helplessly, hopelessly, terribly, alone, that you would much rather murder your father than try to move on because it hurt so much to do just that. It was so much easier to put the blame on someone wasn’t it? Someone absent. Someone absolutely, horribly, despicable. Even worse than the devil himself, that you wouldn’t mind dragging this man to the very depths of hell if it meant he would get to suffer. Forever.”

Akechi, the real one, was quiet. At some point, he had stopped punching the cognition and stopped to listen. He couldn't help but feel exposed, as if everything he said had just stripped away all the layers of wall he had meticulously built up to protect himself. And now it was being laid bare for himself to see.

This was who he really was.

He couldn't find it in himself to even be angry anymore, or feel much of anything. Akechi just felt so very tired.

If this was Maruki's way of getting him to break, he was approaching it the wrong way. After all, he was already well aware of what kind of person he's always been. Being psychoanalyzed by his other self wasn't demeaning in the least. But seeing himself say it, hearing the way the words poured out one after another, it just helped him give his mind more clarity. As if a part of himself felt more clearer.

"You've grown soft, Akechi. You know, if it were me, I would've killed all of them a long time ago. I wouldn't have hesitated once," the illusion finally said. 

Akechi said nothing.

He knew that much. But he also knew that that was something he would never have pulled off. Not just because of the sheer amount of bloodshed but also because of how guilty he would feel. Despite taking some people's lives without an ounce of hesitation, he didn't want anymore people to die because of him, at least innocent one's. That's why he had warned Akira, over and over again, that he was playing a dangerous game. That he would get hurt if he had kept going. That he would have to kill him if he didn't turn back…

And the rest of his friends? Even if they could act without their leader, if the time came to face them again, he would just dispose of them. That was what he said and yet, he sacrificed himself anyway. Maybe amidst those foolish things they were spouting at him, it had somehow gotten to his head and wavered his will.

He laughed to himself, then sighed. _Idiots… All of them. But I guess that makes me one, too._

When it was clear that Akechi wasn't going to change his mind, the illusion sighed, too. "You really don't want to stay here? You'll be happy, you know. Happy like you've never been before. You can forget everything, be at peace with yourself forever. Isn't that all you've ever really wanted?"

Akechi just shook his head. "At peace with myself, huh? You're right, that is tempting. But running is the last thing I want to do right now. I can't change anything I've done before, and frankly, I'm tired of lying to myself. If I'm dead, please, just let me stay dead. That way, I think I can finally get some peace of mind."

The illusion sighed, seemingly resigned. "I should have known. You've always been stubborn, huh? Well, if that's what you wish for, I have no more purpose here."

Then, as suddenly as he came, he was gone. Akechi was left sitting on the floor of his bathroom, staring at the ground. He slumped to the floor and rolled around to look up at the ceiling instead. He had almost forgotten that he had taken a shower with his clothes intact earlier so he was a little surprised to feel chilly. Akechi sneezed once, shivering to himself.

"No more purpose…" he mumbled, absentmindedly.

The smell of leftover convenience store-bought bento permeated the air, causing him to feel hungry once again.

  
  


…

  
  


Akechi's mother was buried in a small hill on the outskirts of Tokyo, close to the ocean. The travel did not take too long, however, as it was only about a half hour away by train. He spent the entire ride watching the view outside, most of which consisted of landscapes covered entirely by snow and farm scenery. In one onset of land, he saw a murder of crows sitting on a scarecrow, cawing in unison as the train passed by.

Perhaps it was a greeting of some sort, Akechi didn't know. He didn't care.

When he finally got to the hill, he noticed a single crow watching him from the tree above. He nodded at it. The crow blinked back, silent.

He stood and watched the tombstone for a while.

"Hi, mom," Akechi whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to get you flowers. I hope you'll forgive me."

The tomb was silent.

"I'm also sorry I haven't visited you in a while. I was preoccupied with a lot of things actually. Most of which I don't have the time to get into," he gulped, feeling a bit guilty. "But Shido is finally paying for what he did to us though. He's rotting behind bars for god knows how long. It's done."

A cold breeze blew by and Akechi shivered a little, holding his arms together for warmth.

"It took a while but I did it. All by myself," Akechi paused. "Well. Not entirely, I suppose. The Phantom Thieves were actually the ones that finally dealt with him in the end, because…"

He looked up at the tombstone, searching for something, he wasn't sure what.

"There was a struggle. I was hellbent on killing him and his friends that day. I managed to stop myself in time but, as a result, I died. So this is the last time I'll ever get to talk to you like this."

Akechi kneeled down the tombstone, brushing a hand along the engravings.

"Mom, I met someone. He's an idiot, a really big, foolish idiot, but he saved me. Pulled me back from wherever the hell I was. He cried for me, you know? For _me._ I didn't understand why he would do such a thing. I keep doing all these things to push him away and it just slides off of him. Despite everything, he insists that he still wants me here. What a fool."

Something drips down on the snow, melting into a small hole. Akechi wipes his face.

"I say that but I know I'm really the fool. All this time, I've been so focused on fulfilling my one goal that I was blind to all the signs. I've done too many bad things to know I'm not going anywhere pretty after this. Not where you are, anyway, mom."

His vision starts to get blurry.

"But I thought it was fine since nothing mattered but making him pay. That was all I knew how to do. I thought that would be enough. But…"

He paused, trying to get the lump in his throat to ease off.

"It was so― _so_ hard without you, mom. Everyday, I got up and wondered just how much longer all of this would take, how much more life would throw at me. I was―" he heaved. "I missed you. Sometimes I wondered why you didn't take me with you but I understand why you did it. I―I get it. I know you were in pain and I'm sorry I couldn't do enough for you then. And... you know, now that everything is done with, I just don't feel any better because his stupid face keeps popping into my damn head! And so I forget what I'm thinking, and―and I can't breath and he makes me want to―"

Akechi shakes his head, not allowing himself to finish that thought. He sniffs and rubs a hand over his eyes.

"That idiot. That hopeless, useless idiot. I'll never understand him. Never, I swear…" he sighed, calming down a bit. "God, I'm a mess. I'm sorry for showing you this side of me, mom."

From the corner of his eye, he could see a sliver of the sun peeking from the horizon, painting the sky into a vibrant red and orange. Akechi, despite himself, laughed in a carefree manner. The crow from the tree branch cawed frantically in response to him. He thinks he's finally lost it, after everything, but he doesn't really care anymore. He kept laughing like that, hiccuping in between, until his ribs ached and he forced himself to stop.

Finally, he sighed, exhausted. Akechi stood up, brushed the snow from his pants and glanced at the tombstone again.

"Mom, I have to go now. Save the world or whatever, as cheesy as that sounds. Can you believe someone was dumb enough to alter the entire world's reality into this godawful mess?" he sniffed. "Yeah, me neither, mom. But what can I do? For some reason, those idiots won't let me rest just yet. So I guess I'll just have to lend them my help again, one last time."

At that, the crow cawed in response, before flying off the branch. Akechi watched the bird fly into the distance until he could no longer see it anymore before he, too, started to head off towards his path.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, thanks for reading. this was sitting in my drafts for a while and i finally had the energy to finish it now so yeah! take it, i guess?
> 
> but yeah, a couple of months after royal and i still feel sad about him. damn.


End file.
